The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1887-12-10

Neither the long strides of the heavy
boots on the dry prairie grass nor the
thrustlng aside of the impending
branches of the trees disturbed the
singer, until the coarse, loud voice ex-
claimed sneeringly:
Somewhat merry, be'ant ye?"
The dark-colored specimen of man
kind, who was leaning lazily against a
small tree and viewing the ak at his
feet complacently, started guilty.
20 de Lor, boss how go skeered
me-
The man laughed; low. chuckling
laugh, that was by no means reassuring.
"Skeered We, did I, you black villain?
What are We up to, down here by the
river?"
"Cuttin' posts for Massa Fairleigh."
Posts, hey? Fixin' up his ranch
more and more. the old fooli I say,
Skete, do you see this here little toy ?"
la, boss, don't shoot
Il wont; that is, if you'll agree to do
Jest as / tell We. If you don't. then
that black skin Will cover dead mig
ger; do you hear?"
Yes, boss"
"Then answer some questions, and
mind | won't stand any lies. Where is
your 'massa,' as you call him."
"Fo' de Lor', done know"
Yes We do. l don't mean at this
minute 'lactly; mean where did he
calculate to go to-day?'
"Oh, goilvl II blebe heered him
tell Miss Nora he wur gwine down to
Buf'lo Greek dis berry mornin'."
L thought so; goin' to git some
money, wasn't hep"
Skete short for Mosquito) began 10
pick up his scattered senses, and mere
ly shook his woody head by way of re-
ply.
do you see this barker?" growled
the man, savagely.
"Gollvl yes, boss don't shoot don't
turn it dis var way it might go off,"
Il rather think it Will if You don't 90
off a little better. Now, where does
your old 'massa' keep his morey-un-
der his bed, or in his desk, or where?"
go de Lor'- Ohi don't shoot. He
he keeps it under de pillow. Wha-
villa you want ter know dat fo'?"
No questions from you, YOU black
rascal. | Jest want you to tell me few
more things, then I've somethin' to tell
you. Where does Miss Nora sleep?"
In de back chamber, oh course"
Down stairs? ?"
"Ies, boss; what's de difference"
Shet up / only want to ask ques-
tions. Do you see this revolver? Well,
now, listen to me. When you go home
tonight you're to never say one word
bout seem me. Understands"
Yes, boss" tremblingly.
And you'll watch where your old
skinfint of master hides his money
and private papers-Tm as anxious
bout them as the money"
What | watch - ar fo'?"
"Shet up! l said you'll watch and
see where they are put; then you'll set
down in a char by the back door"
"By de back doah-oh, don't shootp
"Ies, and you'll keep wide awake I'M
til there's a knock on the door; then
v,u1l open it, soft-like, and keep mum
all the time, threateningly. You'll see
somebody enter, but you won't know
who It's, and then you'll go outdoors,
where you'll find some bosses hitched.
You'll stay close to these until your
caller comes out agin. Now, do you
understand? ?"
Skete didn't turn white, because he
was altogether too dark; but his usu-
ally genial black face was leaden
gray, and his black eyes fall of terror.
He realized perfectly that he was to
have hand in helping rob his master
He glanced out over the wide reach
of the muddy Platte River and to the
long rolling prairies beyond In the
northwest he could plainly see the
chimneys of Fairleigh Ranch and the
sod-covered roofs of the barns and
corrals. Was there no escape out of
this demons clutches, he wondered
"Oh, We needn't be calculatin' to
run, you black scamp, because within
sound of my whistle there's a dozen
warm comrades quite ready to hang
you on one o these trees if | but say
the word. You've heard tell of jim
Gregory, hain't you? Well, that's my
name"
Skete trembled like an aspen, for
the name given belonged to one of the
worst white renegades in all that coun-
try, and well known TO every settler as
desperate and outlaw.
"Will We do as say?"
Don't shoot Yes, boss, II
promise.
You'd better, if you want to keep a
whole skin. Remember to have the
door unlocked at the first gentle rap,
and NUNS the word--don't forget
that.
And without another word the man
mounted his horse and rode away. sat
listed that the frightened darby would
obey him TO the letter
Poor terrified Skete didn't cut down
any more trees, but stood tremblingly
by his ax and looking helplessly to-
ward home. Al last he reused himself,
and as the sun swung down under the
level plains IN the West he gathered
up his ak and slowly made his wev IN
the direction of Fairlelgh Ranch.
Nkete had been a slave back in old
Virginia, but he had chung to his old
master after he got his freedom and
willingly followed him, like the faith
iul dog he was, TO the far West. He
was loving, ignorant old soul, easily
frightened, as the man who proposed
making a tool ont of him we'll knew.
Fairleigh Ranch was large, barn
Ike structure. surrounded by numer
Gus sheds and corrals There was no
other human habit alton within less
than five miles. The ranch was stu
ated III the vast plains OF the Platte
Valley. where its owner, Richard Fair
leigh, had purchased hundreds of the
cheap prairie acres and also hundreds
of sheep and cattle which wandered
tor many miles watched by his numer-
Gus cowboys. The muddy, shallow
latte River was within sight. aud to
one not initiated into its uselessuess as
to navigation and treacherous sand
i'ars. it appeared quite majestic. At
the time of the commencement of our
story the Union Pacific had been com
pleted only short time, beyond their
rar eli home, and settlers were Just be-
ginning to flock to that fair section of
country.
richard Fairleigh had been In the